


And You Saved Me

by solversonlou



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Joe Is A Bastard To Everyone But Graham, M/M, Supportive Graham
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 11:11:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15363336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solversonlou/pseuds/solversonlou
Summary: Graham helps Joe move on from his break up with Debbie.





	And You Saved Me

Graham is there to pick up the pieces, just like always.

"I did everything right this time," Joe's voice cracks from his slumped position on the floor of Home Farm kitchen, a half empty bottle of whisky clasped in his hand.

"I know," Graham exhales, eyes meeting Joe's from across the room. His chest aches at the sight of him, so broken and lost, like the boy he'd known all those years ago, desperate for somebody to reach out to him.

Dropping his head, Joe takes another swig of alcohol, grimacing as it burns the back of his throat.

Graham flinches at the sight of it.

"Why did she leave me?" Joe croaks out for what feels like the hundredth time that evening, lips curled down at the corners as he peers up at Graham, searching for an answer.

"These things aren't always easy to explain," Graham says, making his way across the kitchen before stopping to kneel in front of Joe. He gives him a small, half smile, fingers curling around his bicep as an invitation to help him stand. "Come on, you need to rest."

\- - -

It gets a little easier.

Joe struggles to come to terms with it, and without a scheme on the books, he throws himself into work. 

Their clients don't seem to notice anything different with him, but Graham can tell this is his way of coping with the stress of everything.

Joe reassures him that it's fine, but Graham sees the sadness in his eyes when they're out in the village and they spot Debbie and Ross together.

Graham tells him later in the evening that things will get better, that he'll find someone new and get his chance of happiness.

Joe smiles, and although he doesn't believe Graham, he appreciates the reassurance.

\- - -

Graham is somewhat correct.

It does get better.

In fact, Joe grows to find that work and Graham keeps his mind off of things, helps him feel less torn up about the whole thing.

He plays chess with Graham in the early afternoon sometimes, usually after a visit from a client.

Graham mentions something and Joe's lips curl into that familiar smirk of his for the first time in weeks.

"It's good to see you having fun," Graham's mouth twitches into its own small smile as he makes another move on the chess board. "Even if I'm beating you."

Joe chuckles, "The game's not over yet."

\- - -

Graham lines up a few dates for Joe, just the odd dinner with female clients.

Joe is reluctant at first, but he attends, puts on the charm but bottles it at the last moment, excusing himself back home with not so much as an invitation inside for coffee.

Graham doesn't question it at first, why Joe isn't getting back on the horse, just lets him figure things out for himself.

"Louisa is going to be in Hotten next week," Graham brings up one day, informing Joe of a previous client's new business prospects. "You were always quite fond of her. Maybe you should ask her out?"

Joe looks up from his newspaper, blinks at Graham for a moment, lips stretched as he sucks in air through his teeth, "We're too busy next week, all of those meetings... why are you so concerned about my love life anyway?"

"It'd be good for you," Graham doesn't look up from his novel, but his face feels warm as he speaks. "Getting yourself out there."

"Hm," Joe hums, glancing back down at his paper. "What about you? Why don't you put yourself out there? I'm sure there are plenty of middle aged women around here who'd be interested, Meghan excluded. Oh, and ss long as she isn't a Dingle, of course."

Graham tugs at the lapels of his jacket as he shifts in his chair and he clears his throat. He shakes his head, tone stoic as ever, "I'm quite alright, thank you."

"As am I," Joe practically whistles, eyes fixed on Graham as he takes a long sip of his coffee.

\- - -

Joe still schemes, but it's to a much lesser degree than he used to.

"It's just a cafe, Joe," Graham says, brow set into a frown. He's spent the past four weeks watching Joe slowly manipulate Bob Hope, who's still somehow reeling from his affair.

"It's business," Joe shrugs, brows raised as he nods towards the as of now closed down cafe. His lips curl into a that classic Tate smirk as he pats Graham's arms and moves around him, making his way towards the front door where Bob is waiting for them to sign the papers over to him.

Joe makes it so difficult for Graham to love him sometimes.

\- - -

It's nearing Christmas, and the village is having a grand time, decorating and organising carol singing and nativities.

Joe is of course excluded from the festivities, most of the village still holding a grudge and giving him snide looks whenever he buys a drink in the pub or eats in the cafe he now owns.

Home Farm is expansive, but so lacking in people that it feels silly to put up a tree, but Joe insists, splashing out on an expensive one and getting an interior designer to help choose where to put it. 

Graham isn't exactly impressed with the decor, considering it rather garish and over-the-top, but he doesn't say anything as they sit in the lounge on Christmas Eve, the fireplace on and the modern, LED string lights twinkling around them.

"Notice anything?" Joe asks, hinting with a tilt of his head towards the tree.

Graham blinks at it for a moment before he notices and lets out a long exhale, "You bought yourself a present?"

"Oh, come now, Graham, I'm not that vain," Joe tuts before raising the cup of tea in his hands to his lips and blowing on the hot surface of the liquid. 

Graham finds himself distracted somewhat by the curve of Joe's mouth, but he's broken out of it when Joe chuckles.

"It's for you," Joe grins, placing his mug on the coffee table.

Graham's brows raise, taken aback by the generosity, "Okay."

"You could sound a little more excited," Joe frowns, a tad saddened by Graham's response.

"I'm thankful, it's just..." Graham chuckles, eyes creasing at the corners as he looks from the tree to Joe. "What a difference a year makes."

"Oh, I've bought you things in the past," Joe rolls his eyes, waving a dismissive hand. 

"True," Graham nods. "But usually it's still in the shopping bag."

\- - -

"Graham, can you help me for a sec?" Joe's big blue eyes and the sight of him, standing in his bedroom with his shirt half on and one arm in a sling, frankly, cannot be ignored.

He'd taken a fall on one of his runs, although Graham suspects that the tree stump hidden by leaves was purposefully obscured by Bob or someone else. Perhaps one of Sam Dingle's old tricks.

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Graham blinks at him for a long second before nodding and taking a step into his room.

"Taking the sling off first would help," Graham notes as he approaches Joe, taking the shirt that's already on his left side in his hand and pushing it slightly off Joe's shoulder so he can get to the bandage tied at his back.

Joe exhales sharply, annoyed at his current predicament, "If I knew how difficult this would be, I'd have stayed in my workout gear."

"And be sweaty in front of our clients?" Graham questions, face remaining stoic despite the heat that creeps up the back of his neck, his fingers dangerously close to Joe's bare skin.

Joe hisses in pain a little as Graham loosens the sling, fingers pressing to his toned bicep as he straightens it out a little. Joe licks his lips, watches Graham's fingers as he pulls the shirt sleeve up, helping him get his arm in, "You don't seem to mind watching me sweat."

Their eyes meet for a moment, Graham's a little darker than Joe's, who stares down at him, wordless as the air grows thick between them.

Looking back down, Graham slides the shirt over Joe's shoulder, straightening out the collar around his neck. He keeps his fingers steady as he gets to work on the buttons, outwardly calm even though he can feel the warmth radiating off of Joe's skin, eyes drawn to the toned surface of his abs and the light trail of hair on his chest.

He's so fit and young that Graham finds himself at a crossroads, ashamed for wanting to reach out and touch Joe's skin, mixed with insecurity over his own older body.

Shaking himself of the thoughts, he quickly does up Joe's shirt, tears his hands away as soon as he gets the top button done. He turns his back on Joe, blinks at the array of ties on Joe's bed for a long moment, doesn't move.

"Graham," Joe's voice is low as he presses his working hand to Graham's shoulder, the warmth of it apparent even through Graham's suit.

Graham turns to him, lips pressed into a straight line as he stares up at him, taking in the way Joe's eyes search his face, the way his full lips part as he blinks down at him.

"The sling..." Joe says after the longest moment, gesturing towards the bandage that Graham had put down with Joe's ties.

Exhaling sharply, Graham nods, turning back to pick up the sling. He helps Joe get into it, tells him the suit can do without a tie today, and leaves him to do his hair and get ready.

Joe only needs one hand to do those things. He should be able to cope.

\- - -

Joe finds himself dwelling on Graham's hands and his heavy gaze for weeks.

Even after the bandage is gone, he finds ways to get Graham's hands close to him again, complaining of residual stiffness in his shoulder.

It isn't at all subtle, but Graham takes it as Joe being whiny and lazy, just wanting Graham to do things for him so he doesn't have to do them himself.

It's only when he finds himself in the presence of a shirtless Joe again, fingers rubbing Deep Heat gel into Joe's shoulder blade, does he question Joe's intentions.

Swallowing, Graham shifts behind Joe on Joe's large bed, thumbs rubbing circles into the freckled skin of the younger man's shoulders.

He's about to pull away, snapping out of his distraction, when Joe lets out a soft, low groan, one that grabs Graham's attention immediately.

Anyone else would apologise out of embarrassment, but Joe doesn't say a bloody thing.

Graham pulls his hands away, just like he had done when he was getting Joe dressed, tells him the cream should work and that he needs to take it easy when he works out from now on.

Joe turns to him with a smile, "Maybe you should join me, make sure I'm not overdoing it."

Graham swallows, frowns, "I get enough exercise running around for you all day."

\- - - 

They're on a late night trip back from David's shop for milk and bread when they spot Ross and Debbie, standing under a wooden garden archway, lit up with fairy lights. 

It's horribly romantic, but Joe seems unperplexed as he walks with Graham, hands dug into the pockets of his coat.

Graham notices Joe's disinterest but doesn't mention it, not until they're back at Home Farm, and Joe is eating the banoffee pie that Graham had baked the day before. Screw the carbs and how late at night it is.

"Whoever thought you were a Michelin star chef," Joe is kidding, but he finishes off the last crumb on his plate. Graham actually is a wonderful cook, he just likes to tease him.

Graham smiles, looking up from his empty tea mug as Joe presses his elbow to the kitchen island counter, propping his chin up on his fist as he studies Graham for a moment.

"You know, I never said thank you," Joe notes, and Graham frowns for a second, confused. "For being there for me. After Debbie. I can't even imagine being that low now."

Graham's chest blooms at Joe's words, his gaze dropping to the counter as his lips quirk into a small, warm smile.

"You helped me a lot," Joe leans back, hands pressed flat to the counter. "Even if your attempts at setting me up with women never worked out."

Graham lifts his head, tilts it to the side slightly, "Well, that was mostly refusal from your side."

"True," Joe nods. Brows drawing together a little, he questions. "Why were you always so concerned about me finding someone?"

The warm feeling in Graham's chest sinks a little at Joe's words, his lips pursing together as he frowns. Glancing down at his hands on the counter top, he inhales, "I didn't want you to go down that path of loneliness. I didn't want you to end up alone, like me."

When Graham looks back up again, Joe's eyes are soft and wide, brimming with concern as he gazes across at him, "Graham..."

Graham looks away, shame like a hot wave over him as Joe makes his way around the counter and Graham feels the weight of his hands pressed against his biceps.

"Graham, you're not alone," Joe tells him, voice serious but reassuring as he rubs his thumbs in circles on Graham's shoulders. "Remember what you told me? You thought I saved you, but we saved each other."

Meeting Joe's eye, Graham can't mask the way his chest twinges at the sight of him, the curve of his mouth, smiling, the genuine warmth in his impossibly blue eyes. Joe makes it extremely easy for Graham to love him sometimes, even if those sometimes are rare.

Graham never thought that Joe would be the one to initiate a kiss. In fact, he had come to accept that they would never kiss, that he would live the rest of his days, silently standing by as Joe moved on with his life.

It's only when he feels Joe's fingertips, warm and pressed to his cheeks, does he realise what's happening, and he cranes his neck up to close the gap between them.

Graham kisses him with years of repressed emotion, timid at first, but turning quickly into hands gripping Joe's waist and teeth scraping across his bottom lip.

Joe groans when Graham gets a knee pressed between his legs, already half hard as he ruts against Graham's thigh, the fabric of their suits causing friction between them.

They don't make it to Joe's bedroom.

They don't even make it out of the kitchen.

Graham presses Joe against the kitchen island, fingers holding his wrists behind his back as he kisses him, the rub of Joe's stubble leaving a mark against his cheek as he gets a hand between the both of them.

Joe comes first, cock flush against Graham's own, spilling over his knuckles and the material of his trousers. He gasps Graham's name when he comes, breath hot against the shell of his ear, fingertips pressed to his arms.

Graham doesn't say anything when Joe bats his hand away from himself, just lets the younger man press his fingers around him and edge him along. 

"Thank you," Joe whispers as he works his hand around Graham, lips pressed to the skin of his throat, just above his collar. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Graham comes with a grunt, fingers pressed to the crown of Joe's hair, gripping lightly as he kisses his temple.

He doesn't know what he'd do without him either.

\- - - 

Things transition organically.

Graham wakes up in Joe's bed for the first time, a week after that night in the kitchen, Joe's temple resting against his bare chest as the early morning sun peaks through the curtains.

Pressing his nose to Joe's hair, Graham inhales, the smell of coconut shampoo and his own aftershave apparent, a mark of himself on Joe's skin and body.

Joe had never been fantastic in the mornings, often in a bad mood until his first cup of coffee, but he wakes up with a soft smile as he blinks up at Graham, eyes adjusting to the light.

Graham is broad and strong, a warm weight under Joe as he draws circles into his skin, trailing his fingertips across the softer curve of his stomach. Graham no longer feels insecure in comparison. He doesn't feel embarrassed when Joe grabs at his hips and pulls him closer, nor when Joe's ruts against his stomach as he rides him, toes curling into the mattress.

"Morning," Joe smirks, still a hint of mischievousness to him. It's a side that will never disappear completely, and Graham doesn't think he wants it to. "How long have you been awake?"

"Not long," Graham says, wrapping an arm around Joe's shoulders, rubbing a hand over his bicep. "You know that you talk in your sleep, don't you?"

"Hm?" Joe frowns, a little sceptic. "And what do I say?"

"World domination," Graham says, his humour in regards to Joe dry as ever. "Stealing sweets from babies. Poisoning the cream cakes in the cafe. The standard daily routine for you."

"All this time," Joe chuckles, shaking his head. "And you're still a smart arse, aren't you?"

\- - - 

The villagers are angry at Joe again, especially Laurel who keeps telling him that he needs to give Bob the cafe back.

A lot of them have started to refuse to go in there, but it's of no bother to Joe, who simply ignores them and hires his own staff from outside of the village.

There are the rare villagers who pop in every now and then, but only when Graham is there and Joe is up at Home Farm. They usually have quiet words with Graham, try to suggest that perhaps he should convince Joe to let Bob have the place back. After all, it isn't like Joe needs it, or has some big passion for baked goods.

Graham, although understanding their struggle, tells them there isn't much he can do, and meets up with Joe after the cafe closes, ready to go to the Woolpack for a pint.

It's been a few months since they started... whatever it was that was between them. It's their secret, locked away up on Home Farm, but it's not exactly as if either of them care about other people's reactions.

Especially not Joe, who thrives on controversy, already buzzing from the villagers being unhappy with his cafe takeover and makeover. (The modern counter tops, flash lighting, and hipster brews aren't exactly going over well.)

So when Joe takes Graham's hand as they're walking through the village, across the cobbles, neither of them mention it.

Graham's neck flushes a little hot as Joe squeezes his fingers, but you wouldn't guess it as he walks besides him, expression its usual, neutral self as Joe's lips quirk up into his classic smirk.

They don't pass many people on the way to the pub, only Gabby and Liv, who glance at them then give each other wide eyed looks as they walk in the opposite direction, towards the Mill.

It's only when they're in the pub for a few minutes, largely unnoticed at first, do people start to pay attention.

Their hands are linked, pressed together atop the bar, and as Charity brings them their order, she looks down at them, up at Joe's smug face and Graham's unchanging expression, back down at their hands, then back up at them again. 

"Alright, did you get superglued together, or summat?" Charity lets out a small, mocking laugh as she places the drinks down. 

Joe and Graham remain wordless as Joe takes his drink and Graham takes his own with a small nod of thanks. Charity frowns as she watches them make their way to a table, still holding hands.

A few of the other punters give them odd looks, Ross especially as he sits at the end of the bar, noticing them as they take a seat.

"Are they handcuffed together, or summat?" Chas asks as she steps next to Charity, squinting at the back of Joe and Graham, who sit with their hands linked upon the table.

"No," Charity frowns, studying them as Joe talks casually and Graham listens, Joe's thumb rubbing across his knuckles. 

"What are they playing at?" Debbie asks, leaning into Ross as they watch from their barstools.

Joe gets up after a moment, hand leaving Graham's, confirming to the rest of the Woolpack that they aren't in fact, handcuffed or glued together in some prank they'd assumed had been committed by another unhappy villager.

It's only when Joe leans down and presses a kiss to Graham's cheek, does it click.

Charity lets out a small, choked back noise, mouth agape, "Oh, wow, I can't believe this."

Debbie whispers a sharp, _"What?!"_ as she leans against Ross, and Ross remains silent, eyes wide as Joe shuffles away from the table towards the toilets, aware of the eyes on his back.

"Well," Chas says after a long moment of silence, arms folded across herself. "That clears that up then."

"Does it?" Charity questions, her shocked confusion turning to giddy amusement, intrigued at the newfound information. "I mean, what exactly is going on, right?"

"Mum, leave it," Debbie says, sighing as she faces towards the bar. "It's none of our business."

"Uh, I dunno," Ross adds, voice low as he leans in, trying to keep it hush. "I kind of wanna know what's up with 'em."

"You know that I can hear you?" Graham's voice cuts through the conversation, his back turned to them in his seat.

Debbie apologises for her boyfriend and family, but Charity isn't backing off just yet as she leans across the bar, a grin on her face.

"You fancy telling us what that was about?" She questions as Debbie sighs, frustrated by her nosy mother.

"Exactly what it looked like," Joe interrupts as he waltzes up to the bar, chin cocked up as his lips curl into a proud smirk, eyes almost half lidded from how joyous he is. "Another pint please, Charity. You can sit with us if you want. Have a proper chat about mine and Graham's relationship."

Charity leans back, considers it for a moment, but then she sees Debbie and the look of " _absolutely not_ " that she's giving her and then she's sighing, shoulders sinking as she remembers she's supposed to despise the posh boy, or at least be neutral to him for her daughter's sake.

"You're alright," Charity says, pouring another pint. "I'd rather keep my sanity, thanks."

\- - -

"Gay Batman and Alfred," Joe chuckles as they arrive back home from the cafe one evening, recalling their encounter with Liv and Gabby. "I've not heard that one before. You know, you'd think Flaherty would be more considerate, considering her halfwit brother and his insufferable husband."

Graham half smiles, still amused by the teens and their idea of insults as he shrugs off his coat and hangs it up.

Joe turns to him after he hangs his own jacket up, puts his arms around Graham's waist as he pulls him into an embrace.

Graham raises a brow as he looks up at Joe and then Joe is pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth and Graham is smiling into it.

"You're not worried, are you?" Joe asks when he pulls away, hands linked around Graham's back. "About people knowing?"

"No," Graham says, truthfully. He used to worry, keep everything so tucked and hidden away. People needn't know about his past, or what he was up to. Not unless they needed to. "I don't care what people think."

Joe smiles, eyes softening as he kisses Graham again, "Good."

**Author's Note:**

> i will not rest until i get canon joham
> 
> title is from a gotye song but i guess also sort of from canon lines?


End file.
